well I feel like i'm facing a conundrum. We create our own values, and they must be tested against our life experiences, no? I always told myself when the right girl who likes me for who i am comes around, iwill be devoted to her as a great boyfriend. well, maybe i didn't think in such a polar term, but i did have this thought. this is one end of the scale.
the other is that...she would just be another woman. i want to have another or a third on call. i want to have "hand" or "power" in these relationships, so that these women would encircle me. but how many men are in this kind of situation? i don't know. but, by going into a "relationship" with one woman makes this thing change a lot. especially if it is discovered that you are seen with another woman, because that will jeapordize your relationship with the primary one. i have this theory i tell myself and others that i want to test. it involves being in close quarters, in close affinity with one woman. i want to see, that if this state of being with another person will make me appear/seem more attractive - making it EASIER to go out with a second or third woman. why? i don't know. it would stress me out, probably. i have a shitload of coursework to do at this point in my life, not to mention my living and financial situation are deemed possibly to change within the next couple months. but i think it would be interesting. i also wonder WHY do i not think i want to be in a relationship with someone who probably wants to be in one with me.
i am worried that it will tie me down from any other possible mates. it could, but they are usually rare in my life. but if the theory proves true, it won't be. how did i even meet this woman i'm going out with? it was random. a party. not much contact. but she made that move ...because she had enough alcohol in her. it was I who attracted her. I did not pursue her..not really at all. maybe she was desperate. her ex was nothing to consider anymore. maybe she was horny. i hope she still is. i want to try out those ultrathin condoms on her..hopefully clean pussy. i've never thought in these terms before, but it's changing things for me, not super significantly, but it leaves me less to worry about in one aspect of my life.
the handful of my friends that met her responded positively, at least in front of me. i worry about bringing her around campus a lot, thinking we'd feel out of place. she's talkative, as am i, but around her, she's the talker. my close friends smoke weed a lot, and she and i do not. i told them i'd never change, not even for a woman. my schedule and few priorities might, but that's all. i intend to stick to that. however, i'm trying to uncover why i do not want a relationship. am i self-conscious that she is not attractive or something? that's not true, she is pretty, and kinda hot. dresses well, looks good. she is larger than me, that's for sure. i don't know what to make of that, neither of us are really going to change in the short term, so that's just part of the package. she carries it well, but in the bedroom it all kinda comes out. but then its just her and i, and i deal with it, and enjoy it. i thought about girls with tight frames today, and oggled them. we want what we can't have, and must accept it.
but sleeping with this woman makes me cocky and confident for a while, then wears off. are our meetings to create this cycle? where, when it wears off, i'll tumble back to her bed...risking neediness? maybe she likes that. i don't know.
i feel like i have to keep a dual front. one side of indifference, to keep her coming back. the other - my own personal insecurities, spawning from my past blunders with the opposite sex, my deprived cock over the years, and ebb and flow of self-worth - these tumble out, and when they do, i pull her to me closer. maybe i need more time to accept these things. she likes me for who i am.
joke life
Monday, April 19, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Today I took
Today I took
.125mg alprazolam
20mg dextromethorphan
200mg guafenesin
100mg caffeine
doing better. want to reduce the amount of pills i have to take to feel decent, or at least not as bad.
.125mg alprazolam
20mg dextromethorphan
200mg guafenesin
100mg caffeine
doing better. want to reduce the amount of pills i have to take to feel decent, or at least not as bad.
Friday, February 26, 2010
hopefully better
Bobby wanted to try something new this Saturday morning. He wanted to get up early and see the sunrise like the villain on Captain Sassafras Molasses. He thought it would be exciting.
One day Bobby noticed that one of his sneakers was missing and he looked all over his room and house for it. He got frustrated and woke up his mother. "Mommy! Mommy! Have you seen my sneaker?"
"Bobby, I don't know.” She wiped some crust from her eye. “We can look for it later. Go back to sleep."
"But I need my shoes to get to the mire to see the sunrise!"
"Well, wear my slippers then and keep them clean."
"OK, thanks mommy!"
So Bobby ran to Mommy's closet and peered inside and found some big pink slippers and slid his feet into them and sauntered out of the house, careful not to let his feet out of the big, lanky grown-up shoes.
"Hmm," he thought to himself. "Which way was the mire again?" He stumbled back into his quiet house and woke up his father. "Daddy, daddy, which way is the mire?"
"Mmmph. Hmphf. Ughmm..."
"..."
"Umm, go around the left bend toward the meadow, but don't tread in it, that means you went too far. Make another left at the red rocks before the meadow and follow the rocky path down the swamp and you'll hit it. Run along now and be careful. I'm going back to bed. Mmphf."
"Thanks daddy!" said Bobby. He started to run out of the house, wanting to get there before sunrise, and almost tripped over his own feet in the process. "Stupid slippers! Well, better than being half barefoot on this rocky, muddy trail!" The sky was a dark velvet purple, with just enough clear moonlight for Bobby to find his way, but the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He took the left bend toward the meadow and slowly maneuvered over the red rocks and slid down the muddy path, careful not to soil the pink slippers. But his feet came loose and so did his grip on the branches sticking out from the walls of the trench. It got stepper and steeper and he panicked as his sliding became a roll and he spun down the path like a loose tire until he hit the bottom with a ker-plunk!.
It was a pool of viscous, gooey brown mud, a stew of plan debris and rocks, probably devoid of life.
It Everything was still when he reared his head and looked about the zone of muck and grime he'd gotten himself into. "Augh!" He shouted in peril. He thought about the shoe he was looking for and the pink slippers he must have soiled and left behind in his spontaneous descent until..."Aughh!" he screamed as he felt a strange, sharp pull on his leg. "What? Hey! Help!!" A new limb wrapped around his arm. He shouted and squirmed until he saw a rounded, mysterious stump looming, rising from the mud and then stopping. There was a hiss, and a "Kaugh....KAKAKAKAKAKaugh..."
"Ollie? Ollie!!" Bobby shouted with glee. He felt the claws unwind around his limbs and for the first time, was happy to be stuck in a pit of mud with an alligator.
The beast reared his stump of a head and bore its teeth and let out of a loud grunt.
"Bobby..." It spoke like an overflowing rain gutter, spewing water. "You can't just hop in here like a handicapped toad. I would have swallowed you whole!"
"It wasn't up to me, Ollie! The mire walls were super steep! What happened? Why are you here and not in the bog, anyway?"
"Oh, I moved here the other day. I did some remodeling to invite more...visitors. It worked for you, didn't it?"
"Yes, I guess so. Anyway the reason I stopped by is because I'm looking for the sunrise. And my other sneaker."
"Oh…Bobby. I’m afraid the sun’s been up for quite a while. But as for the shoe, heh, I think I got that. Gimme a sec." Ollie Alligator stood up high on his hind legs, rising out of the mire, spewing bits of mud everywhere while Bobby wipes some off his face. Nine feet is visible of his scaled husk of a body and he inhales a torrent of air into his dark green nostrils and takes a step back from his little human friend. And, perfectly on cue, he squirts from his giant tree trunk snout a monsoon of mud and gunk and half-digested food scraps, lining the mire with trash and debris. Bobby laughs and smiles at Ollie.
"I wish I could have done that at dinner last night...casserole again."
A loud belly chortle escapes Ollie. "Next time try to liberate those leftovers for me!"
Bobby eyed the now more-littered-than-ever mire. Lying in the mud were chicken bones, pieces of string, pages from a Berenstein Bears coloring book, old coins, fathers, scraps of colored paper, some metal trinkets, soup cans and lids, receipts, spent Borders gift cards, old moldy bread, a milk carton, a very wet shoe, a sleeping frog, a Band-Aid, someone's underwear, and what have you. The garbage tsunami came to an end with a few guttural belches from the giant reptile.
"Hey!" Bobby shouted. He waded through the gunk and grabbed a now dark green and brown sneaker.
"Just leave it by the fireplace tonight, it'll be good as new in the morning," Ollie instructed. "Oh, do you want this coloring book? Even though it's mostly colored…mud?"
"No thanks, Ollie. I just got the new Captain Sassafras Molasses one. My dad bought me it!" Ollie puts his snout under the surface and sucks up a piece of old chicken. "Cool! Well, have a safe trip home! And remember, the sun comes up every morning! Keep trying!"
"Thanks again, Ollie!" Bobby shouts back, relieved as he climbs up the walls of the valley of mud. Eventually, he made his way home, and in all his excitement, bumps into something and stops in his tracks. "Bobby," his mother said, "You made it!" She warmed him with an embrace. "Now, where are my slippers?
One day Bobby noticed that one of his sneakers was missing and he looked all over his room and house for it. He got frustrated and woke up his mother. "Mommy! Mommy! Have you seen my sneaker?"
"Bobby, I don't know.” She wiped some crust from her eye. “We can look for it later. Go back to sleep."
"But I need my shoes to get to the mire to see the sunrise!"
"Well, wear my slippers then and keep them clean."
"OK, thanks mommy!"
So Bobby ran to Mommy's closet and peered inside and found some big pink slippers and slid his feet into them and sauntered out of the house, careful not to let his feet out of the big, lanky grown-up shoes.
"Hmm," he thought to himself. "Which way was the mire again?" He stumbled back into his quiet house and woke up his father. "Daddy, daddy, which way is the mire?"
"Mmmph. Hmphf. Ughmm..."
"..."
"Umm, go around the left bend toward the meadow, but don't tread in it, that means you went too far. Make another left at the red rocks before the meadow and follow the rocky path down the swamp and you'll hit it. Run along now and be careful. I'm going back to bed. Mmphf."
"Thanks daddy!" said Bobby. He started to run out of the house, wanting to get there before sunrise, and almost tripped over his own feet in the process. "Stupid slippers! Well, better than being half barefoot on this rocky, muddy trail!" The sky was a dark velvet purple, with just enough clear moonlight for Bobby to find his way, but the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He took the left bend toward the meadow and slowly maneuvered over the red rocks and slid down the muddy path, careful not to soil the pink slippers. But his feet came loose and so did his grip on the branches sticking out from the walls of the trench. It got stepper and steeper and he panicked as his sliding became a roll and he spun down the path like a loose tire until he hit the bottom with a ker-plunk!.
It was a pool of viscous, gooey brown mud, a stew of plan debris and rocks, probably devoid of life.
It Everything was still when he reared his head and looked about the zone of muck and grime he'd gotten himself into. "Augh!" He shouted in peril. He thought about the shoe he was looking for and the pink slippers he must have soiled and left behind in his spontaneous descent until..."Aughh!" he screamed as he felt a strange, sharp pull on his leg. "What? Hey! Help!!" A new limb wrapped around his arm. He shouted and squirmed until he saw a rounded, mysterious stump looming, rising from the mud and then stopping. There was a hiss, and a "Kaugh....KAKAKAKAKAKaugh..."
"Ollie? Ollie!!" Bobby shouted with glee. He felt the claws unwind around his limbs and for the first time, was happy to be stuck in a pit of mud with an alligator.
The beast reared his stump of a head and bore its teeth and let out of a loud grunt.
"Bobby..." It spoke like an overflowing rain gutter, spewing water. "You can't just hop in here like a handicapped toad. I would have swallowed you whole!"
"It wasn't up to me, Ollie! The mire walls were super steep! What happened? Why are you here and not in the bog, anyway?"
"Oh, I moved here the other day. I did some remodeling to invite more...visitors. It worked for you, didn't it?"
"Yes, I guess so. Anyway the reason I stopped by is because I'm looking for the sunrise. And my other sneaker."
"Oh…Bobby. I’m afraid the sun’s been up for quite a while. But as for the shoe, heh, I think I got that. Gimme a sec." Ollie Alligator stood up high on his hind legs, rising out of the mire, spewing bits of mud everywhere while Bobby wipes some off his face. Nine feet is visible of his scaled husk of a body and he inhales a torrent of air into his dark green nostrils and takes a step back from his little human friend. And, perfectly on cue, he squirts from his giant tree trunk snout a monsoon of mud and gunk and half-digested food scraps, lining the mire with trash and debris. Bobby laughs and smiles at Ollie.
"I wish I could have done that at dinner last night...casserole again."
A loud belly chortle escapes Ollie. "Next time try to liberate those leftovers for me!"
Bobby eyed the now more-littered-than-ever mire. Lying in the mud were chicken bones, pieces of string, pages from a Berenstein Bears coloring book, old coins, fathers, scraps of colored paper, some metal trinkets, soup cans and lids, receipts, spent Borders gift cards, old moldy bread, a milk carton, a very wet shoe, a sleeping frog, a Band-Aid, someone's underwear, and what have you. The garbage tsunami came to an end with a few guttural belches from the giant reptile.
"Hey!" Bobby shouted. He waded through the gunk and grabbed a now dark green and brown sneaker.
"Just leave it by the fireplace tonight, it'll be good as new in the morning," Ollie instructed. "Oh, do you want this coloring book? Even though it's mostly colored…mud?"
"No thanks, Ollie. I just got the new Captain Sassafras Molasses one. My dad bought me it!" Ollie puts his snout under the surface and sucks up a piece of old chicken. "Cool! Well, have a safe trip home! And remember, the sun comes up every morning! Keep trying!"
"Thanks again, Ollie!" Bobby shouts back, relieved as he climbs up the walls of the valley of mud. Eventually, he made his way home, and in all his excitement, bumps into something and stops in his tracks. "Bobby," his mother said, "You made it!" She warmed him with an embrace. "Now, where are my slippers?
Rough draft transcription (hopefully in entirety)
One day Bobby noticed that one of his sneakers was missing and he looked all over his room and house for it. He got frustrated and woke up his mother. "Mommy! Mommy! Have you seen my sneaker?"
"Bobby, I don't know. We can look for it later. Go back to sleep."
"But I wanted to see the sunrise at the mire!"
"Well, wear my slippers then and keep them clean."
"OK, thanks mommy!"
So Bobby ran to Mommy's closet and peered inside and found some big pink slippers and slid his feet into them and sauntered out of the house, careful not to let his feet out of the big, lanky grown-up shoes.
"Hmm," he thought to himself. "Which way was the mire again?" He stumbled back into his quiet house and woke up his father. "Daddy, daddy, which way is the mire?"
"Mmmph. Hmphf. Ughmm..."
"..."
"Umm, go around the left bend toward the meadow, but don't tread in it, that means you went too far. Make another left at the red rocks before the meadow and follow the rocky path down the swamp and you'll hit it. Run along now and be careful. I'm going back to bed. Mmphf."
"Thanks daddy!" said Bobby. He started to run out of the house, wanting to get there before sunrise, and almost tripped over his own feet in the process. "Stupid slippers! Well, better than being half barefoot on this rocky, muddy trail!" The sky was a dark velvet purple, with just enough clear moonlight for Bobby to find his way, but the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He took the left bend toward the meadow and slowly maneuvered over the red rocks and slid down the muddy path, careful not to soil the pink slippers. But his feet came loose and so did his grip on the branches sticking out from the walls of the trench. It got stepper and steeper and he panicked as his sliding back a roll and he spun down the path like a loose tire until he hit the bottom of the mire, a pool of viscous, gooey brown mud, a stew of plan debris and rocks, probably devoid of life.
It was still when he reared his head and looked about the zone of muck and grime he'd gotten himself into. "Augh!" He shouted. He thought about the shoe he was looking for and the pink slippers he must have soiled and left behind in his spontaneous descent until..."Aughh!" he screamed as he felt a strange, sharp pull on his leg. "What? Hey! Help!!" A new limb wrapped around his arm. He shouted and squirmed until he saw a rounded, mysterious stump looming, rising from the mud and then stopping. There was a hiss, and a "Kaugh....KAKAKAKAKAKaugh..."
"Ollie? Ollie!!" Bobby shouted with glee. He felt the claws unwind around his limbs and for the first time, was happy to be stuck in a pit of mud with an alligator.
The beast reared his stump of a head and bore its teeth and let out of a loud grunt.
"Bobby..." It spoke like an overflown rain gutter, spewing water. "You can't just hop in here like a handicapped toad. I would have swallowed you whole!"
"It wasn't up to me, Ollie! The mire walls were super steep! What happened?"
"Oh, I've been doing a little remodeling to invite more...visitors. It worked for you, didn't it?"
"Yes, I guess so. Anyway the reason I stopped by is because I'm looking for a shoe."
"Heh, I think I got that. Gimme a sec." Ollie Alligator stood up high on his hind legs, rising out of the mire, spewing bits of mud everywhere while Bobby wipes some off his face. Nine feet is visible [...] and he inhales a torrent of air into his dark green nostrils and takes a step back from his little human friend. And, perfectly on cue he spits from his giant tree trunk snout a monsoon of mud and gunk and half-digested food scraps lining the mire with trash and debris. Bobby laughs and smiles at Ollie.
"I wish I could have done that at dinner last night...casserole again."
A loud belly chortle escapes Ollie. "Next time try to liberate those leftovers for me!"
Bobby eyed the now more-littered-than-before mire. Lying in the mud were chicken bones, pieces of string, pages from a Berenstein Bears coloring book, old coins, fathers, scraps of colored paper, some metal trinkets, soup cans and lids, receipts, spent Borders gift cards, old moldy bread, a milk carton, a shoe, a sleeping frog, a Band-Aid, someone's underwear, and what have you. It seemed like the garbage tsunami was coming to an end, all that Ollie was matriculating were now a few guttural belches.
"Hey!" Bobby shouted. He waded through the gunk and grabbed a now dark green and brown sneaker.
"Just leave it by the fireplace tonight, it'll be good as new in the morning," Ollie instructed. "Oh, do you want this coloring book? Even though...it's mostly colored mud?"
"No thanks, Ollie. I just got the new Captain Sassafras Molasses one. My dad bought me it!" Ollie puts his snout under the surface
and sucks up a piece of old chicken. "Cool! Well, have a safe trip home!"
"Thanks again, Ollie!" Bobby shouts back, relieved as he climbs up the walls of the valley of mud. Eventually, he made his way home, realizing he'd bumped into his mother. "Bobby," she said, "You made it!" She warmed him with an embrace. "Now, where are my slippers?"
"Bobby, I don't know. We can look for it later. Go back to sleep."
"But I wanted to see the sunrise at the mire!"
"Well, wear my slippers then and keep them clean."
"OK, thanks mommy!"
So Bobby ran to Mommy's closet and peered inside and found some big pink slippers and slid his feet into them and sauntered out of the house, careful not to let his feet out of the big, lanky grown-up shoes.
"Hmm," he thought to himself. "Which way was the mire again?" He stumbled back into his quiet house and woke up his father. "Daddy, daddy, which way is the mire?"
"Mmmph. Hmphf. Ughmm..."
"..."
"Umm, go around the left bend toward the meadow, but don't tread in it, that means you went too far. Make another left at the red rocks before the meadow and follow the rocky path down the swamp and you'll hit it. Run along now and be careful. I'm going back to bed. Mmphf."
"Thanks daddy!" said Bobby. He started to run out of the house, wanting to get there before sunrise, and almost tripped over his own feet in the process. "Stupid slippers! Well, better than being half barefoot on this rocky, muddy trail!" The sky was a dark velvet purple, with just enough clear moonlight for Bobby to find his way, but the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He took the left bend toward the meadow and slowly maneuvered over the red rocks and slid down the muddy path, careful not to soil the pink slippers. But his feet came loose and so did his grip on the branches sticking out from the walls of the trench. It got stepper and steeper and he panicked as his sliding back a roll and he spun down the path like a loose tire until he hit the bottom of the mire, a pool of viscous, gooey brown mud, a stew of plan debris and rocks, probably devoid of life.
It was still when he reared his head and looked about the zone of muck and grime he'd gotten himself into. "Augh!" He shouted. He thought about the shoe he was looking for and the pink slippers he must have soiled and left behind in his spontaneous descent until..."Aughh!" he screamed as he felt a strange, sharp pull on his leg. "What? Hey! Help!!" A new limb wrapped around his arm. He shouted and squirmed until he saw a rounded, mysterious stump looming, rising from the mud and then stopping. There was a hiss, and a "Kaugh....KAKAKAKAKAKaugh..."
"Ollie? Ollie!!" Bobby shouted with glee. He felt the claws unwind around his limbs and for the first time, was happy to be stuck in a pit of mud with an alligator.
The beast reared his stump of a head and bore its teeth and let out of a loud grunt.
"Bobby..." It spoke like an overflown rain gutter, spewing water. "You can't just hop in here like a handicapped toad. I would have swallowed you whole!"
"It wasn't up to me, Ollie! The mire walls were super steep! What happened?"
"Oh, I've been doing a little remodeling to invite more...visitors. It worked for you, didn't it?"
"Yes, I guess so. Anyway the reason I stopped by is because I'm looking for a shoe."
"Heh, I think I got that. Gimme a sec." Ollie Alligator stood up high on his hind legs, rising out of the mire, spewing bits of mud everywhere while Bobby wipes some off his face. Nine feet is visible [...] and he inhales a torrent of air into his dark green nostrils and takes a step back from his little human friend. And, perfectly on cue he spits from his giant tree trunk snout a monsoon of mud and gunk and half-digested food scraps lining the mire with trash and debris. Bobby laughs and smiles at Ollie.
"I wish I could have done that at dinner last night...casserole again."
A loud belly chortle escapes Ollie. "Next time try to liberate those leftovers for me!"
Bobby eyed the now more-littered-than-before mire. Lying in the mud were chicken bones, pieces of string, pages from a Berenstein Bears coloring book, old coins, fathers, scraps of colored paper, some metal trinkets, soup cans and lids, receipts, spent Borders gift cards, old moldy bread, a milk carton, a shoe, a sleeping frog, a Band-Aid, someone's underwear, and what have you. It seemed like the garbage tsunami was coming to an end, all that Ollie was matriculating were now a few guttural belches.
"Hey!" Bobby shouted. He waded through the gunk and grabbed a now dark green and brown sneaker.
"Just leave it by the fireplace tonight, it'll be good as new in the morning," Ollie instructed. "Oh, do you want this coloring book? Even though...it's mostly colored mud?"
"No thanks, Ollie. I just got the new Captain Sassafras Molasses one. My dad bought me it!" Ollie puts his snout under the surface
and sucks up a piece of old chicken. "Cool! Well, have a safe trip home!"
"Thanks again, Ollie!" Bobby shouts back, relieved as he climbs up the walls of the valley of mud. Eventually, he made his way home, realizing he'd bumped into his mother. "Bobby," she said, "You made it!" She warmed him with an embrace. "Now, where are my slippers?"
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
shapely thighs
Sick. Not just that coughing, illness-feeling sickness malaise. But a spiritual sickness that follows with it. The limbs and head ache, the body is so heavy and hard to move, the cough comes from the stomach, the mucous is disgustingly green and gross and seems to be everywhere. It's worst when the nose fills up all the way and you can't even breath. you don't want to.
And i say to people, i'm "kind of sick" because the truth is I feel sick almost every day in some way. i should go to the health center tomorrow. i think i have chronic sinus infections. I think I feel terrible.
This lady we saw today was stunning. She was also one of the few women in the film industry, capable of producing her own, or her husband's (she referred to him as her partner) films. She worked for a s oftware company and did artistic design too. one of her most viral projects was when she attached a camera to around her cat's neck and had it romp around for 24 hours. this made her cat famous. some of the pictures were so beautiful. that cat was so precious, you could tell they did well by the look of her cat.
the drugs don't work. that's why i'm afraid. i know how to self-medicate, but i don't know how to give myself surgery. i am still worried. i keep spacing out even though i am well-rested. maybe i should just sleep until i feel amazing. i know that won't happen. i don't want to be so depressed. i want to spread love all around the world. spread cream cheese on every bagel. spread apart every pair of big and shapely thighs. isn't that what i was made for? isn't that what i love.
And i say to people, i'm "kind of sick" because the truth is I feel sick almost every day in some way. i should go to the health center tomorrow. i think i have chronic sinus infections. I think I feel terrible.
This lady we saw today was stunning. She was also one of the few women in the film industry, capable of producing her own, or her husband's (she referred to him as her partner) films. She worked for a s oftware company and did artistic design too. one of her most viral projects was when she attached a camera to around her cat's neck and had it romp around for 24 hours. this made her cat famous. some of the pictures were so beautiful. that cat was so precious, you could tell they did well by the look of her cat.
the drugs don't work. that's why i'm afraid. i know how to self-medicate, but i don't know how to give myself surgery. i am still worried. i keep spacing out even though i am well-rested. maybe i should just sleep until i feel amazing. i know that won't happen. i don't want to be so depressed. i want to spread love all around the world. spread cream cheese on every bagel. spread apart every pair of big and shapely thighs. isn't that what i was made for? isn't that what i love.
Monday, February 8, 2010
super bowl
yesterday i returned to the retreat with alex and ariel. i am so attracted to ariel. but she is so ballsy and ball-busting now that we actually had a friendship experience hanging out at her place drinking and smoking and stuff. that night was fun. it's important to hang out with female friends and not just think of them as a means to an end. then I think I took a nap? I didn't do much and then went to a super bowl party with some beta friends, a strange circle that reminds me of high school freedom, mixed 50 50 but no real attraction...except to alex's legs. good lord. i was dead set then, having been timid to show much face when we went out to see the play. then i joined with my roommates' gang to go to a reading. that was fun but the bike ride was far more rewarding. i was glad to keep up to the best of my ability, and work my legs again. they aren't much stronger or better than me. i had fun.
Monday, January 25, 2010
worry
i woke up with strange worries about whether he lost someone behind.
whether he left someone behind him, when he came on this long mysterious trip on a whim with those sacrifices
whom he'd left behind. was he not doing enough to secure ties with the others living back at home?
he thought about leaving a message with his old therapist, whom he couldn't afford to pay or see
dennis i k now last time i said iw as having a great time but i think i am still too, but i'm also worried
i woke up anxious, thinking about ties iwth my father and a friend or two, and his family. he wanted to see them
and pour his heart out to them, his fears, his aspirations, and discuss the emptiness he felt sometimes
that empty...
returning was its goal, even though he fought so hard to ditch it in the field, like a rat in a jar he carried
but the anxieties and fear came back and thef irst thought, you know, was..."wow, i feel this way again.
it feels good in a weird way, that it reminds me where i came from, where i used to be. nostalgic."
but it doesn't pass like nostalgia does,
being back at the baseline you don't want to be
it hurts and its not even logical
you feel sick and it doesn't even make sense
I THOUGHT ABOUT waking someone up to talk to them about it but then thought about the dialogue that'd take place
what would be the first sentence to come out of my mouth, he thought
whether he left someone behind him, when he came on this long mysterious trip on a whim with those sacrifices
whom he'd left behind. was he not doing enough to secure ties with the others living back at home?
he thought about leaving a message with his old therapist, whom he couldn't afford to pay or see
dennis i k now last time i said iw as having a great time but i think i am still too, but i'm also worried
i woke up anxious, thinking about ties iwth my father and a friend or two, and his family. he wanted to see them
and pour his heart out to them, his fears, his aspirations, and discuss the emptiness he felt sometimes
that empty...
returning was its goal, even though he fought so hard to ditch it in the field, like a rat in a jar he carried
but the anxieties and fear came back and thef irst thought, you know, was..."wow, i feel this way again.
it feels good in a weird way, that it reminds me where i came from, where i used to be. nostalgic."
but it doesn't pass like nostalgia does,
being back at the baseline you don't want to be
it hurts and its not even logical
you feel sick and it doesn't even make sense
I THOUGHT ABOUT waking someone up to talk to them about it but then thought about the dialogue that'd take place
what would be the first sentence to come out of my mouth, he thought
Saturday, January 23, 2010
proust
Am I normal? Am I sick? Am I corrupted? Am I evil? These are how I feel when people respond to me. It is my fault sometimes, yes, and I am working on it. It was described to me that sometimes, when I am joking I use the same face I use when I am serious. Sure, I can work on that. Yes, that's OK. But i'm also funny with wit sometimes which isn't used in that respect. and it confuses me...i was at a social engagement. a few and i did'nt come off as my usual self. and sometimes I worry that if I think certain thoughts that they'll come true if I think about them. But I'm really big on...creating an environment where a dialogue, with a safe dialogue, where one can happen, and that we can have a conversationabout anything. that's why i don't give Give Ben any flak.
Everything should be discussed. Wait, no. That would be horrible!
Ahahah...let's agree, some things are better left unsaid. Even a brevity of speech, keeping it small and calculated would be best, but how am i gonna meet new people that way? a cute line? i need to come off less forced. iwould introduce myself to people that made eye contact and sound spastic. just be civil and casual. hey, i'm new in town. my name is marcus. was that so hard? no need to squirm or reel. ddddd or lets skip the intro duction too the intro duction off, this interdiction between ugh me and people i wnat to get to know or bang. or just kiss. i'll get to that later. it was interesting being interesting around that gay man. he was cute. i will admit that and there is nothing wrong with that. Sorry I got distracted. it's important to contemplate on the issues that make you feel ill. Gabe says he's aware of what usually makes him tick, that he's in sync with his autonomy. that's awesome.
i want to try what proust did but i realize its impossible to imitate, and worthless to aim for it. but his technique is worth trying. it would require roleplay, and my amount of dedication would have to mimick my acting skill. he was sick with asthma and had to stay at home. poor man. he is so wise. he was left with his papercrafting and memories and a pen. i wonder what his setup looked like. was it meagre or did it have a large desk and paintings, was he poor? was he ill? where does the whole madeleine thing come in anyway? i efel that way when i dip in cookies. i liked the descriptions that show how he goes into extreme detail, like the patterns on the napkins or the sound of water dripping onto a pipe, but aren't they ultimately pointless unless you can relate them to something? that would make...soemthing experimental if it doesn't relate, and genius if you can bound it to some sort of overarching theme. can you do that?
Everything should be discussed. Wait, no. That would be horrible!
Ahahah...let's agree, some things are better left unsaid. Even a brevity of speech, keeping it small and calculated would be best, but how am i gonna meet new people that way? a cute line? i need to come off less forced. iwould introduce myself to people that made eye contact and sound spastic. just be civil and casual. hey, i'm new in town. my name is marcus. was that so hard? no need to squirm or reel. ddddd or lets skip the intro duction too the intro duction off, this interdiction between ugh me and people i wnat to get to know or bang. or just kiss. i'll get to that later. it was interesting being interesting around that gay man. he was cute. i will admit that and there is nothing wrong with that. Sorry I got distracted. it's important to contemplate on the issues that make you feel ill. Gabe says he's aware of what usually makes him tick, that he's in sync with his autonomy. that's awesome.
i want to try what proust did but i realize its impossible to imitate, and worthless to aim for it. but his technique is worth trying. it would require roleplay, and my amount of dedication would have to mimick my acting skill. he was sick with asthma and had to stay at home. poor man. he is so wise. he was left with his papercrafting and memories and a pen. i wonder what his setup looked like. was it meagre or did it have a large desk and paintings, was he poor? was he ill? where does the whole madeleine thing come in anyway? i efel that way when i dip in cookies. i liked the descriptions that show how he goes into extreme detail, like the patterns on the napkins or the sound of water dripping onto a pipe, but aren't they ultimately pointless unless you can relate them to something? that would make...soemthing experimental if it doesn't relate, and genius if you can bound it to some sort of overarching theme. can you do that?
Saturday, January 16, 2010
do i dare wash up tonight
Do I dare wash up tonight?
My bare buns quivering in the stark, arctic closet
The chills should penetrate my skin no more than
my reek must permeate my denim greaves
That reek which waits to saturate at night
as I sleep tonight in covers,
the stank sweat foreruns -
for a stank next day
But tomorrow is a new day
and tomorrow is another day
A clean slate of sorts yet influenced
by ghastly nightly dreams delusions
the diary a grimoire of cobwebs and
confabulated memories catching
old loves before they lost
i shake still oily auburn locks at the
grid of stars below
on the pillow, on the cove of the 101
they interrogate me, they ask, "Why am
I slain?" "Why did you never return?"
And I cannot answer. This hour does not
call for sparse speech, it calls for flux
To wake then sleep then dream disrupts
Why have'st emotions evoke such foul
sometimes once but usually kindred spirits?
Saying prayers by the bed --
they come in doubles more haunting me
stopping by then wondering why
astral chains not cords, still torn asunder
something amiss in an urn of ash
something missing and wondering why
i shake still oily auburn locks at the
grid of stars below
on the alter, on the cove of the 101
do i dare wash up tonight?
i still miss someone.
tonight is colder,
tomorrow morning
still not sure
confessions to a wise showerhead
render me exposed!
Slightly haunted yet while
prayer conjures no bane
halfway immersed in
deaf dumb and blind
isolation chamber
the steam intoxicates but
skin clammy and cold and wet
so tensely rigid this
place is but unaware
My bare buns quivering in the stark, arctic closet
The chills should penetrate my skin no more than
my reek must permeate my denim greaves
That reek which waits to saturate at night
as I sleep tonight in covers,
the stank sweat foreruns -
for a stank next day
But tomorrow is a new day
and tomorrow is another day
A clean slate of sorts yet influenced
by ghastly nightly dreams delusions
the diary a grimoire of cobwebs and
confabulated memories catching
old loves before they lost
i shake still oily auburn locks at the
grid of stars below
on the pillow, on the cove of the 101
they interrogate me, they ask, "Why am
I slain?" "Why did you never return?"
And I cannot answer. This hour does not
call for sparse speech, it calls for flux
To wake then sleep then dream disrupts
Why have'st emotions evoke such foul
sometimes once but usually kindred spirits?
Saying prayers by the bed --
they come in doubles more haunting me
stopping by then wondering why
astral chains not cords, still torn asunder
something amiss in an urn of ash
something missing and wondering why
i shake still oily auburn locks at the
grid of stars below
on the alter, on the cove of the 101
do i dare wash up tonight?
i still miss someone.
tonight is colder,
tomorrow morning
still not sure
confessions to a wise showerhead
render me exposed!
Slightly haunted yet while
prayer conjures no bane
halfway immersed in
deaf dumb and blind
isolation chamber
the steam intoxicates but
skin clammy and cold and wet
so tensely rigid this
place is but unaware
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
busy theatre day
I was so weary yesterday! After 7+ hours of work I ran to the HCC to pick up a package, dropped it off, and ran back to Seminar II for rehearsals, not knowing what I was jumping into! It was amazing walking in there though, with instant attraction for me, possibly romantically, and for the arts too. I was in demand. My body, again. I was needed, but I had to be a decent actor, there are other auditions tomorrow but I had to do my best. I didn't feel like I did a good job but I earned points with Helen and....surprise! Claire! We sat together and shared a few laughs and maybe some rapport. Although I was on heavy guard after I've shared a minor social encounter or two with her before, and was misled, not called, but this is unique. If I'm picked it'll force us together, it's so awesome. And if not her, there's even that girl I made out with at that party, Grace, and a few other desirables. Who knew theatre was so good for the love life? How cool! But this could be good for me and Claire in the long term because we'll have a common interest. She even replied to my mocking Facebook entry seriously, and said "hopefully thursday". I don't want her to think I'm trying to fuck her again ASAP, because I'm not. I want to take it slow like Chase did with Nicole, but not too slow that she'll lose interest and I'm friendzoned. I was so alpha and that's why it worked so well. a lot of my outbursts followed with roaring laughter even though there were only like 12 people in the room. and I did this one reading with a girl who's name I can't remember and got a semi-boner because i was this doctor and we fell in love during the scene and she was breathing down my neck and embracing me and I felt giddy inside. and in another secene Helen got really close to me and I didn't know hwo to act. I wish I could act likeher. I almost made afool of myself at the end of the auditions when I accosted her and said "how can i act like you?" I also did this to demonstrate higher value to Claire, taking nancy's advice that she's a Leo and takes what she wants, and that if I pursue her too aggressively, it'll just push her away. I did my best at everything yesterday. I was scared for my health when I kept coughing while about to use the table saw. I was NOT ready for that. it was like when Mark got the stomach flu on Peep Show, it was terrible and i had to make like 3 bathroom breaks. I guess I am fragile in the morning, but I became OK. my mind was in such a fog around Emma that morning too I felt like such a fool. I need to get up earlier.
Friday, January 8, 2010
skateagain
Did you ever know a snippet of knowledge about Dr. Wicked? He's the long lost half brother of Dr. Horrible, actually. He's been working on a concoction of the most wicked things he can find. He's got a pot on a high fire brewing, stirring, cooking, looking, yearning, leaning over, smelling the fumes of diapers with broken velcro and stitches where the pooh and pee seeps out, the pill bottles mislabled as something else and you have no idea what you're taking, the Nexium mislabeled as Hydrocodone to the pharmacist's chagrin...or rather the patient's, the iPhone plug that won't accept non-Apple earbuds, the books with edges crinklecut so it's hard to flip thorugh them, the paper with the marginholes that are not reinforced and are so easily ripped out of binders, the french fries that are too salty and taste too salty, and yet you yearn fro the salt flavor so you keep eating them anyway in a cognitive dissonance-like fashion like cigarettes tht are so bad for you one would have to be insane to smoke, the lizard tails and skink tails that are cut off or even fall off in the burning eyes of a predator that regrow (why can't we harness this technology for humans? perhaps because tails are so simple) the keyboards that have the big groove in the middle that are more comfrotable at first yet are difficult to adjust for, people that hav trackballs set up on their computers for doing mouse-intensive music (my firend danny was working with FLStudio with a fucking trackball) the zippers that are meant to be attached backwards, but it's hard to tell, but they just don't weave, or stick together, the butter that melts on the countertop during the cooking process, so once it is chilled again its unable to hold its block form and becomes a grody amalgamation of milk and fat OH NO keep writing. the top buttons on your dress shirts, the stylish kind with the nice cut that are so tough to button you are faced with the conundrum of buttoning harder in minding that it might actually come off, or to give up and not button it and use that to yoru advantage in utilizing a new style, im sure you could make it work if you're alread buying nice fitted dress shirts like me, nd the backpacks that hang too low, and the messenger bags that flap against your body as you mingle arond with them in your flat feet (which prevented you from learning how to rollerskate you were the only one of our friends who couldn't nail it, but we are good enough friends that we showed you how, even though it only helped a little, it might take subsequent trips to really hrness the ability i promise to take you back on two dollar skate night wednesdays but i'll be wearing the rollerblades because they are easier, i cant evne wear those skates they feel like little ksateboards under my feet and the ground is slipping away from me, you gotta hold your feet sticking out diaganollly like this, angeled, sticking out, if they're sticking straight ahed you will fall, now lean forward just bit, yeah bend your knees and hahaha okay looking better now stand up straight get up and just you well skate on one skate at a time, yo push off with the other foot, yeh i know, but try it more, one foot at a time
Thursday, January 7, 2010
marta
- What are you doing?
- Hey, stop, it's not ready yet.
- Why?
- Come on, don't hover over my shoulder
I just want it to be perfect. A brilliant teal shimmer of the waters below struck through the reams of the bridge where the air and light of the day seeped through. He raked a hand through his hair and let a sigh. Patterns of flowers bloomed on the ceiling and walls - covered with old cloth and tarp, with reds magentas and lavenders on a seat of yellow felt sky. She asked Bethany who she really admired. I think Tim's acceptable, she said. I wonder what his dick is like. She laughs haughtily. I don't know though, when it really comes down to it I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being naked around him.
Beth, you can't let your personal fears about yourself permeate unto others! Just because you take your showers quick and they're eventful isn't a reason to make someone else uncomfortable! You're going to do it, and you're going to like it. Just put a blanket over yourself, keep it dark.
I don't know. I don't know - it might be cold or icy or something.
Beth - you have no idea. Once you start making out and rubbing each other, you'll be all hot and warm and it's nice.
Beth starts to get up and adjusts her skirt.
Hey, I'm not done yet!
OK fine.
Beth just, just have him over and talk.
About what? It'll just be awkward.
No no! It's only awkward if you make it, if you want it awkward. Just think...sexy. And cool, it'll be alright. Doesn't the idea of being naked with another boy send those tingles down your spine?
Maybe. Sometimes. But if i'm feeling uncomfortable about myself...it just won't feel right.
Well, how can you make it feel right? What do you need, some candles or something? Come on. It's just in your head. Have a drink. Shit.
Marta, i'm just. I'm just not like you. you could do this whenever you want, i need help.
Marta grabbed two soft hands and looked into Beth's hazel eyes. I'm here for you. If I wasn't your friend or didn't like you i wouldn't take the time to help you. i want you to have this experience with this boy because i know you'll like it. You just have to be ready.
OK. Thanks. I'm glad you're here. Thanks, OK? Marta gently holds Beth by her shoulders. She's leaning back but is rocked forward by her hips and Marta's touch. Marta's nose twitches for a second and her eyelids flutter. Beth sighs.
What's wrong anyway, Marta says. I just want you to have fun.
Beth whispers and looks at her shoes. She inhales through her nose and whispers i know Marta. Marta slowly drifts her white hands up Beth's neck and holds her. Beth looks down and breathes softly. Marta leans forward and Beth matches her gaze. Marta smiles and engages Beth's pink lips and she shudders.
Marta...
Another kiss.
Hm ?
It's just been so long...since I've had this.
...
...I know
Their eyes meet and their lips follow. Marta cranes her neck to the side and runs a hand through her hair.
- Hey, stop, it's not ready yet.
- Why?
- Come on, don't hover over my shoulder
I just want it to be perfect. A brilliant teal shimmer of the waters below struck through the reams of the bridge where the air and light of the day seeped through. He raked a hand through his hair and let a sigh. Patterns of flowers bloomed on the ceiling and walls - covered with old cloth and tarp, with reds magentas and lavenders on a seat of yellow felt sky. She asked Bethany who she really admired. I think Tim's acceptable, she said. I wonder what his dick is like. She laughs haughtily. I don't know though, when it really comes down to it I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being naked around him.
Beth, you can't let your personal fears about yourself permeate unto others! Just because you take your showers quick and they're eventful isn't a reason to make someone else uncomfortable! You're going to do it, and you're going to like it. Just put a blanket over yourself, keep it dark.
I don't know. I don't know - it might be cold or icy or something.
Beth - you have no idea. Once you start making out and rubbing each other, you'll be all hot and warm and it's nice.
Beth starts to get up and adjusts her skirt.
Hey, I'm not done yet!
OK fine.
Beth just, just have him over and talk.
About what? It'll just be awkward.
No no! It's only awkward if you make it, if you want it awkward. Just think...sexy. And cool, it'll be alright. Doesn't the idea of being naked with another boy send those tingles down your spine?
Maybe. Sometimes. But if i'm feeling uncomfortable about myself...it just won't feel right.
Well, how can you make it feel right? What do you need, some candles or something? Come on. It's just in your head. Have a drink. Shit.
Marta, i'm just. I'm just not like you. you could do this whenever you want, i need help.
Marta grabbed two soft hands and looked into Beth's hazel eyes. I'm here for you. If I wasn't your friend or didn't like you i wouldn't take the time to help you. i want you to have this experience with this boy because i know you'll like it. You just have to be ready.
OK. Thanks. I'm glad you're here. Thanks, OK? Marta gently holds Beth by her shoulders. She's leaning back but is rocked forward by her hips and Marta's touch. Marta's nose twitches for a second and her eyelids flutter. Beth sighs.
What's wrong anyway, Marta says. I just want you to have fun.
Beth whispers and looks at her shoes. She inhales through her nose and whispers i know Marta. Marta slowly drifts her white hands up Beth's neck and holds her. Beth looks down and breathes softly. Marta leans forward and Beth matches her gaze. Marta smiles and engages Beth's pink lips and she shudders.
Marta...
Another kiss.
Hm ?
It's just been so long...since I've had this.
...
...I know
Their eyes meet and their lips follow. Marta cranes her neck to the side and runs a hand through her hair.
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